


Forever

by terrys_chocklit_orange



Series: Friends [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4422914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrys_chocklit_orange/pseuds/terrys_chocklit_orange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of babygate, an arrangement is made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

The knock comes in the middle of the night, soft but loud enough for Harry to hear it from the bedroom of his suite. He rolls over. He's exhausted. _If it's a fire_ , he thinks, _there'll be an alarm._ Anything else, he doesn't care about. 

But the knock persists. Finally a voice hisses, “Let me in, Harry.” Harry gets up. 

It's Louis, of course, fully dressed in the clothes Harry last saw him wearing. Dark circles beneath his eyes prove he hasn't been to bed, but how he spent the intervening hours, Harry can't tell. “Are you drunk?” He doesn't look it, but sometimes, he hides it well. 

“Not anymore.” Louis shuts the door behind him. Then he stands, looking at Harry in the dim light coming through the large window, as if Harry had invited him over. 

Harry sighs. “What do you want?” 

Louis licks his lips. Harry chooses not to see that. “It's been five years,” he says. 

“I know.” They all spent a large part of the day discussing it. 

“Do you remember that first day?” 

“Of course.” Harry will never forget it: sixteen years old, in a toilet, meeting a boy he wanted, in that instant, more than anybody he'd ever wanted in his young life. And that was saying something. “Listen, Louis, we'll talk about it tomorrow...”

“The baby might not be mine.” As non sequiturs go, it's an arresting one. Harry tries not to look surprised. 

“Then you shouldn't commit to anything until you're sure.”

“About forty lawyers already told me that. My mum said it, too.” 

Harry smiles. He loves Jay, and splitting up with Louis has, thankfully, not meant losing her. Louis fidgets, and Harry lets himself feel for him. Just a little. “Will you be disappointed if it's not?”

Louis shakes his head. “It's not the best situation. We always wanted kids, though, didn't we?” Louis looks at him, and Harry knows he means mutual children, together. They had discussed it, more often than most people would expect from teenagers or even grown men in their position. It's not a conversation they can have now, or ever again.

“Go to sleep.” Harry turns toward his bedroom. Louis doesn't leave. 

“Do you remember--” 

“I remember it all, Louis. Every fucking thing.” He remembers being far too young to move in with a boyfriend, but doing it anyway, because he had the support of his family and the money to do as he liked. He remembers being so crazy about Louis he sometimes wondered if he was, in fact, losing his mind, literally itching to touch him whenever, wherever and however he could get away with. He remembers the nauseating pain of seeing Louis with women and deciding, after many sleepless nights, that if being with Louis meant putting up with that, day in and day out, for—how long? Another year? Two? More? Then he and Louis had to separate, for Harry's mental wellbeing. “And I remember there are very good reasons we're not together anymore.”

“Yeah, I know.” There's a hint of emotion in Louis' voice, not over-dramatic like he sometimes gets, but enough for Harry to know just how deeply Louis is feeling. “And none of 'em are because I stopped loving you.” 

_Fuck._ Harry turns around. Louis is biting his bottom lip, his hands clenched in his pockets. _It's stupid_ , Harry tells himself. _Really, really, amazingly fucking stupid._ But then, getting involved with a guy in the same band hadn't been the most brilliant idea to begin with. “Fuck you,” Harry says, and pulls Louis in for a kiss. 

*** 

There's someone in bed with him. For a brief second, morning amnesia overtakes Harry, and he can't remember who it is. He glances down, and sees a familiar head resting on his chest. _Oh right,_ he thinks. _Who the fuck else would it be?_

Harry sits up against the headboard, nudging Louis as he goes. Louis rolls onto his back, into the space where a pillow might be if they weren't all scattered about the bedroom floor, the bedsheets well on their way to joining them. Harry's hair feels like a bird's nest. He pushes it off his face and glances at the clock. 

“Louis.” He kicks Louis' leg. “Wake up. They're going to come looking for you.” 

“Ah.” Louis eyes open. When he sees Harry, his lips curl into a smile, so wide and genuine that Harry can't help but smile back. “Just like old times, then.” 

_Too much like old times_. It was great, of course, but it's always great. That's never been the problem. Harry's smile evaporates. Louis moves to sit beside him. “It's up to you.” 

“What is?” 

He takes Harry's hand. “We can do whatever you like. You know what I want.” 

Harry laughs out loud. “You don't even know if you're having a baby.” The words are harsh. Harry regrets them as soon as he says them. Louis just looks at him. 

“I haven't got a girlfriend, Harry. I don't think I'll be looking for another. Can't speak for you, of course.” 

Harry shakes his head. There was a time when he dreamed of a big proposal and a lifelong commitment, but then, he grew up. “It's _not_ up to me, though. Or you.” 

“Maybe not now. But the group won't last five more years.” That's true. Some days, Harry isn't convinced it will last a year. “And then...” Louis shrugs, a world of possibility in the gesture. 

“You want me to wait.” 

“I don't want you to give up. Please.” He smiles. “You mean everything to me, Harry. Always have.” 

Five years ago, that was all a sixteen-year-old boy wanted to hear. He would have forgotten everything else, if Louis had asked him to. It wouldn't have mattered, as long as they were together. Harry's grown up, of course. They both have. Time and experience have changed them, but those boys are still there, somewhere. 

Harry puts his arms around Louis and kisses him, softly at first but with quickly increasing urgency, rolling over and pushing Louis into the mattress beneath him. A knock on the door, loud and sharp, cuts suddenly into the dreamy warmth of the moment, but Louis just clings tighter. 

“Fuck 'em,” he says, his lips against Harry's. 

“OK,” Harry replies, and it feels like a promise. 


End file.
